To Tell The Truth
by Art-Over-Matter
Summary: Ian's been in love with Anthony for years...When will he finally manage to tell him? Rated T for coarse language and alcohol reference. Ianthony, Ian's POV.
1. Chapter 1

It took me about six years to tell him. I tried a lot of times. But it took me until 2014, six years after I realized my feelings for him, to actually spit the words out.

Kinda lame, I know. Give me a break.

My first attempt was early in 2008.

I walked into his room after two solid hours of pacing, psyching myself up for it. When I entered, he was on the computer, doing something on his MySpace page.

Me: Hey, Anthony.

Anthony [_not looking up_]: Hi, Ian. What's up?

Me: Uh, nothing, really. What…what are you doing?

I went to sit down on the bed, kicking at the carpet.

Anthony: Not much. Checking on Smosh stuff and whatever.

That was where the crickets would chirp. I sat on the bed, staring at the floor and failing to say everything I'd planned. How was I going to start, again?

Anthony: Did you need something, dude?

He finally swiveled his chair to look at me.

_This is where you're going to say it, Ian, _I told myself. _He should know…._

Me: Uh, yeah, I was just gonna say I, uh….

Damn. Thinking back on it, I might have been blushing. Which is not a common occurrence for me, just so you know.

Anthony frowned and cocked his head slightly to the left, which swept his bangs down over his eye. He was so…just—cute.

And still waiting for an answer.

I swallowed hard. _Don't be a pussy, Ian, good God._

Me: Yeah, I have something I wanted to talk to you about. I think. Um.

[insert crickets here]

Me: You know? Never mind. I think I'll just go, uh—yeah. Never mind. It doesn't matter.

I stood up and started to turn away, already pissed at myself.

Anthony: Are you okay? I mean, you can talk to me, man.

Me [_hurriedly_]: Yeah, but not about this.

Then I pretty much ran.

Yes, I know I'm a loser. You're allowed to think that.

Anthony never came to ask me about it, which, I'll admit, made me feel a little—disappointed, to say the least. The next time we saw each other, a few hours later, he was expectant, clearly guessing that whatever I'd tried to say was something that was important enough to circle back around. But I ignored him.


	2. Chapter 2

My next attempt—and I supposed I actually _did _tell him this time—was in 2011. He was just starting to invest his time in Kalel, and naturally, I had Melanie—we were both quite happy with our girlfriends, but as you'll see, coincidence led me to confess my feelings before I'd actually considered whether or not I wanted to.

The truth was, we were both pretty drunk. He more so than I, which is probably why things worked out the way they did.

Me: Anthony?

He sort of grunted in response.

Me [_stepping up to him creepily_]: Everyone's gone. It's just the two of us.

Anthony put his hands to his head as if to block out a headache. He ignored me.

Anthony: D'you hear that? It's like this buzzing noise. It's really fucking annoying.

Me: No. Anthony.

Him: What?

Me: We're alone.

Him: Yeah?

I looked at the ground. There were only about ten inches separating our feet.

Me [_mumbling_]: I wanna kiss you.

Anthony frowned. I honestly think he heard me. But I wouldn't blame him for not believing his ears.

Anthony: What?

I finally looked at him. I couldn't quite focus on his face, really. The room was dark and I was drunk.

Me: I…I like you. A lot.

Anthony [_smirking_]: Well, good. I like you too, Ian.

Me: You don't get it. No, Anthony, I mean I love you. I'm in love with you. I'm gay. Or I guess bisexual—whatever.

Anthony stared at me. He blinked a couple of times, his expression blank. I half expected him to burst out laughing.

But he didn't.

He looked at his feet and blushed a bit. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath. I still have no idea what he said.

Then I stepped forward and kissed him, harder than I intended to. He stepped back against the counter, but he was kissing me in return. It only lasted for a few seconds before I backed away, suddenly concerned with what I was doing. Wasn't this technically cheating on Melanie?

Anthony stood there with his eyes closed for a moment. I had no idea what he was doing. Was he instantly regretting what he'd just done? Was he savoring the moment? Was he just drunk and hadn't processed that I'd stepped away?

He opened his eyes, which looked black in the near darkness, and looked at me, only now startled.

Me: I—uh—I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry, Anthony. I just—I don't know—I think….

I didn't finish. I did pretty much the same damn thing I did the first time: I turned and left.

When Anthony and I had sobered up a bit the next morning, he couldn't remember the event. I could barely remember it. Maybe we'd both known it had happened, but he didn't believe himself and I couldn't bring myself to tell him. That time, he actually did come to ask me about it. He frowned the whole time, trying to remember what had happened, or trying to understand how he remembered it wrong.

Of course, he didn't remember it wrong, and I claimed I didn't recall anything. So he never know the truth.

Did I feel bad I was keeping this from him?

Fuck yeah. But it was selfishness, I guess, that led me to hide it. I didn't want to mess up our friendship, since I didn't know if he felt the same way about me. I could see he was happy with Kalel, so after a while, I'd assumed he would always be with her. Besides, my emotions were a lot safer if he just didn't know.

But I was all too aware that he had kissed me back that night. He had been drunk, sure, but it isn't often that a straight man is willing to kiss his best friend, even if he's drunk.

So I liked to tell myself.


	3. Chapter 3

I made one last attempt in 2012.

You could say it started with a text conversation.

Me: U driving back here?

Anthony, after a few minutes: Yeah, why?

Me: Don't text and drive.

Anthony: Asshole.

Another few minutes went by.

Me: I need to tell you something.

Anthony: Okay….

Me: But not while ur driving. When you get home I mean.

Anthony: Then y r you telling me this now?

Me: I don't know, dude!

Anthony: Ur a weirdo.

Me: Asshole.

Anthony: LOL

When Anthony pulled into the driveway of the Smosh house, I thought I was ready. I could tell him. It wouldn't be easy, because I'd seen the way he was into his relationship with Kalel, but I wasn't there to start a relationship. After all, I was still devoted Melanie.

But he needed to know.

How was it, I wondered, that I could still love Anthony even when I was content with someone else? Was it a type of feeling that just overrode everything else—something that was ever-present, like an operating system necessary to run a PC?

I didn't know. But let's stay away from the metaphors.

If I remember right, he was wearing that damn gray hat he used to wear all the time, and he looked…well, he looked like Anthony, which means he was adorable.

Anthony: What's up?

I played it cool.

Me: Not much. There's just something I was gonna talk to you about.

He set some stuff down beside the couch and sat down heavily, leaning back and lacing his fingers together behind his head. I couldn't tell if he realized this was important or not.

Anthony: Okay. So?

Immediately, all my plans crashed. I couldn't just tell him like this. Not when he was sitting there, looking at me out of the corner of his eye, expecting something that I suddenly couldn't give.

I switched gears. I could still do this, I would just have to take a different approach.

Me: Uh. So, do you, uh, remember that one night, about a year ago….

I paused. Was this the right way to do this? Should I even be doing it at all? I hadn't fully realized before then that telling him this could potentially change our relationships with our girlfriends. I definitely did not want that.

Anthony was frowning but not looking at me, waiting for me to continue.

Me: We were drunk. And you couldn't—you couldn't remember what had happened.

Anthony: Yeah….You couldn't remember what happened either, right?

Me: Well I could, kind of. Um, it—it wasn't what you thought it was.

He still looked confused.

Anthony: What did I think it was?

Oh, Jesus this was becoming difficult.

Me: You, uh….

I had to redirect the conversation now. I was already starting to tell lies—now I just had to figure out how to make it believable.

Me: You seemed to think it was something weird, like, I…told you something dumb or whatever.

Anthony: Oh, yeah…. I must have been really shit-faced. I remember you, like….

He took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair, deliberately not looking at me.

Anthony: My drunk mind thought you'd, like, kissed me or something.

My mind reeled. He knew? He'd remembered it? How could—how could I keep this from him now?

He saw my expression and immediately misinterpreted it. His cheeks started to turn red.

Anthony: Yeah, I know, it was really stupid. Sorry, I—I was drunk, I don't know what I was thinking…I, uh, I know you wouldn't.

Me: Yeah, I'd thought you remembered, um, something like that. But I never mentioned it because I felt awkward about it, so….Yeah, no. Nothing like that.

Anthony: So what _did _happen?

Me: Let's not talk about it.

Anthony: Okay. Yeah, I've got other stuff to do.

So, yet again, I'd failed. In fact, I'd denied actual proof of the way I'd felt, not just left an unfinished hint.

It was slowly killing me.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time late 2014 came around, Anthony had known for a long time that I was keeping something from him. I knew he was suspecting me of hiding things, but we both acted normally, as if nothing were going on between us.

There had been no hints of Anthony returning the feelings I had for him after that night in 2011, except for one moment in September after Melanie and I decided to part ways. Even that could have easily been interpreted as just a sign of our close friendship.

The breakup with Melanie had been mutual, but that didn't mean I was happy about it all the time. I'd put up an act, as I'd gotten good at, and tried to just be normal, but one day Anthony saw through it.

There isn't really much to this story, but I remember feeling lonely one day while Anthony was up in Sacramento. We didn't say much, but he gave me a hug just because he knew how I was feeling. It's not as though he and I never hug, but this felt surprisingly intimate, lasting longer than just a 'cheer up, bro' sort of thing.

But I could have been reading into it too much.

Eventually, Anthony got fed up with me not telling him things. He pulled me aside one day when I was in LA and asked, quite nicely, what I'd been keeping from him.

Anthony: Hey Ian, this is something I've been trying to ignore for a long time, but to be honest, I'm getting kind of tired of it. Something's going on with you and it has to do with me and you're not telling me what it is.

It took me a moment to speak. I didn't look at him, staring just past his shoulder instead. Then I looked at the ground.

Me: Yeah. Dude, I….There is something I should probably tell you.

Anthony: Okay. Please, tell me. I won't mind.

Me: Um, you might….

I had to do it now. I was as tired of keeping this from him as he was of not knowing. We were both single at this point, so there were no relationships that I could potentially fuck up, at least.

Me: I feel…a little differently about you than you think I do.

I wasn't meeting his eyes.

Me: You know…all that Ianthony crap we've had to deny for years…? Well, uh….

I looked up at him finally, keeping my expression level, and I immediately saw the understanding in his eyes. He knew what I was about to say.

Me: Half of it is true. I do, um, I do feel that way about you.

Anthony looked at me for a while, his expression somewhat blank, before it became awkward and he glanced away. His head was tilted downward when he looked back up at me from under his thick eyebrows. One of said eyebrows was slightly raised.

Anthony: Are you serious? Is this…is this what you haven't been telling me all this time?

Me [_hesitantly_]: Yes…. You don't seem that surprised.

Anthony: Well, I'd—I'd guessed it.

An awful sort of silence dropped between us again. I had no idea what he was thinking, though I watched his expression carefully for any sign of disgust or confusion or whatever. He stared at the ground, his face slowly starting to brighten until he looked up at me, smiling.

Anthony: Ian, I love you. I mean, I feel that same way about you. I've spent so many years imagining that one day you would tell me this, and now…and now you just did, and…yes! I love you too.

I couldn't help but stare at him. This…was not what I had been expecting.

Anthony [_still smiling_]: Dude, don't look at me like that. I'm serious.

I started to laugh a bit. It was all so simple. Six years I'd waited for this moment, and it just…happened.

Me: Um, okay. Wow. You, uh….Wait. You mean all this time, you've been feeling the same fucking way about me, and somehow neither of us told the other?

Anthony put a hand on the back of his neck, wincing slightly.

Him: Yeah. Uh, apparently. I mean, we had girlfriends and all, but…yeah.

I laughed incredulously, thinking about the stupidity of our situation.

Me: I'm pretty sure we're idiots. But I guess that's okay.

Him [_starting to frown_]: Do you think we should…could we…start a relationship, at this point?

Me: I damn well hope so. I mean, I know our presence on the Internet will make that hard, but I—I've wanted you for a long time, Anthony, and now we're both single and we know how we feel and….I don't know. We should probably wait and see what happens.

He nodded, looking a little disappointed, but he smiled.

Anthony: You're right, but I think everything will work out one way or another. We'll make it work.

He put one arm around me and gave me a quick, slightly nervous kiss on the cheek. As cheesy as it was, I couldn't help but grin.


	5. Epilogue

_A note from Anthony:_

_I just discovered this document on Ian's computer. I'm sure he didn't want me to ever see it, but I couldn't help but click on it._

_I'm touched, really, that he actually spent the time to write all this out, although I'll admit I'm kind of pissed that he never did tell me about what happened when we were drunk. Ah, well. I guess if I was drunk enough to forget the whole event's details, I probably don't deserve to know. But yeah, I can't get over the fact that Ian actually wrote this—I never thought of him as much of an author, though I know he used to write fanfictions about video games when he was younger. …I'm not actually sure he knows I know that._

_So anyway, Ian and I have figured out how to be in a relationship together and it's not really all that weird. He makes as good of a boyfriend as he does a friend, which, I can tell you, is pretty damn good._

_It took him six years to tell me the truth about his feelings, but in the end, I'm pretty sure we agree it was worth the wait._


End file.
